Thursday, 29 November 2012

Overheard

Two old ladies sitting over their pub lunch, a bottle of wine between them, the level well down.
They are discussing the funeral of a mutual friend of theirs.

"Nice turnout and plenty of good hymns. I enjoyed that. I like a nice funeral.""Yes, me too. Molly had a good life, 92 and not a day’s illness.”"She was never the same again after that time she went to visit her family in America and crashed her car on the way home from the airport.”"That was only two years ago, game old girl, wasn’t she? Do you remember the time she got on the wrong plane? That was in America too.”"Or the time we were supposed to meet her in Mellington and she drove all the way to Newtown, after she’d missed the turn-off?”"Yes, she was a one, that Molly. But coming home from the airport, crashing her car on the A49, and then opening her front door and finding the place flooded, that was too much for her. She never really got over that, you know. I’d have died of shock there and then.""Hadn’t she forgotten to switch the boiler off before she left?”"Yes, she told me herself. Always cheerful and head like a sieve, our Molly."

The ladies lift their glasses in tribute to their friend and smile.

"Didn’t she have a marvellous death, though? Simply went to sleep and never woke up. Marvellous.That’s the way I’d love to go. It was lucky her daughter came round to see how she was. She found her dead in bed, all peaceful. Marvellous."

The ladies sip and smile again.

After a while, one of them says, "yes, a marvellous death. That’s what I’d like for myself too. Mind you, I would hope they'd find me before I start to smell."

For some reason the ladies find this remark hilarious. Spluttering and flushing bright scarlet, their faces low over the table, foreheads almost touching, they collapse into uncontrollable giggles. All subsequent words are drowned in laughter.

I still think my husband would have chosen to die the way he did - completely out of the blue, with no time for fear or pain, out of a life he loved, in our living room with his favourite program on TV.Those two ladies showed the right spirit in relation to their friend's death! (Although there really is no "right" or "wrong" when it comes to our reacting to death)

It was always my father's goal to run out of money and breath on the same day. Fortunately, there was enough money left to take care of my mother who also perished because of an auto accident. The accident itself didn't do her in, the pneumonia from a cracked sternum was the culprit. But like your ladies, she live a good life to a ripe old age and died in her sleep. Should we all be so lucky.I now find myself in the uncomfortable position of being the second oldest in the family and possibly the next to go (although, God willing, there should be about 20 years left). Isn't it funny how your perspective changes as you can see the end of the tunnel?

Oh Friko - I started laughing too - always brings the worst out in us doesn't it .. but sounds like Molly was well loved, and those two old friends are continuing on strong - bet their laughter adds a few years to their lives ..

My husband just came back here to the den to see what was so funny. I could barely read this aloud to him, Friko. Molly sounds like quite a character, full of spirit. I think we all know someone akin to her, or at least composites of her, who are " Always cheerful and head like a sieve". May we all rest in peace before we start to smell.

oh this was good!and I had a friend like thisand she would have loved this tooI still think of her and miss her wild ways....and yes these ladies are truly enjoying the spirit of it alland Molly is laughing behind the curtain

Delightful ladies and hope for similar sentiments at my funeral. Surpressed funeral giggles however are impossible to control. The more you try to repress them, the louder they get. Best to let them rip like they did or you could explode. I have been guilty many times.

Sounds like these ladies (Molly when she was there too) have shared many giggles of hilarity over the years on all sorts of subjects. Ah the intimacy and freedom that comes with old and true friendships!

Oh, Friko, this sounds like a conversation out of an Agatha Christie novel. Some things never change, and I have a feeling old ladies in English villages are one of those things! "I do love a good funeral." LOLI don't want to die unexpectedly, in bed or otherwise. I've always said I want two weeks' notice, so I can arrange things, especially my house, nicely. I want to talk to my nieces, and to my brothers, and even to my husband, who ought to know already because he lives here, but doesn't pay much attention.It would be nice to be 90-something and still have my wits about me, though.I really enjoyed this. Thanks!Luv, K

What a nice way to be remembered -- with funny stories and laughter! I loved this post! I hope to die - at a ripe old age, of course -- as everyone in my parental generation did: suddenly. My Aunt Molly was the best: she was dressed for lunch with a friend and was a bit more than half way through that day's New York Times crossword and getting everything right.

Over years of taking funerals, I've heard many similar conversations, but this is something special. :-) Lucky Molly to be remembered with such affection and humour is part of the life she shared with her friends.

Molly was indeed a chipper old gal. I love they way her friends reminisced about her life. She was loved in spite of having a head like a sieve. I think if we could choose our own passing, we would all go that way!

Dear Friko, I have to confess that I broke out laughing aloud--a real belly laugh--when I read the last line of the dialogue between the two women. They really told us a lot about "our Molly." She was one heck of a survivor is what I'd say.

This past summer, my neighbor across the street who was 89 died and his body wasn't discovered for about five days--according to the medical examiner. We all felt bad realizing that he was lying there and no one knew. His daughters were distraught.

So this does happen and it's concerning. I have one young friend (29) who calls me each day to check that I'm okay. I'm grateful for that. Just as these two women, I suspect, are grateful for "our Molly." Peace.

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Benno

About Me

I was born and educated in Germany but I have lived in the UK for decades.
Before I started blogging, I had time for gardening, writing, reading, meeting friends, for poetry and literature, concerts and the theatre. I enjoyed cooking and feeding others.
Now, I do all these things if blogging permits.